


Fully, Wholly

by SuggestiveScribe



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Fingering, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Ryuji is eager to submit and Akira is a gentleman who obliges, inline with canon except for the gay sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 21:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12328875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuggestiveScribe/pseuds/SuggestiveScribe
Summary: Had Akira always been this strong? Ryuji's eyes followed his body down and back up again. Akira gave a huff as he lifted his chin above the beam.Had he always been this...The lithe line of his body dropped down. Shoulders flexed, and Ryuji wanted to touch them. More accurately, he wanted to be touchedbythem. Feel the strength of those arms pushing him down, holding him still, pinning him th—Oho, woah there.





	Fully, Wholly

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an angel. And what an angel they are, to request ryuaki.

 

Ryuji stomped up the stairs of LeBlanc without announcing his entrance. The shop was strangely empty―void of customers and Sojiro alike. But drifting down the staircase was faint music tapping out a quick rhythm, and Ryuji couldn't remember a single time he'd come upon Akira indulging that kind of hip hop-pop hybrid. He took the stairs two at a time, and when his head breached the view of Akira's floor he beamed. "Pardon the intrusion!"

Akira didn't respond. He was facing the other direction, hanging from a beam on his ceiling. He lifted himself into a pull-up, the momentum in the motion a clear indicator that he'd gotten himself into a good pace. He lowered again, keeping his movement controlled, and then repeated. 

The view gave Ryuji pause. Small tufts of curls were stuck to the back of his neck where he'd been sweating. His t-shirt was rolled up to the shoulders, baring his arms completely. They were... nice. 

What was this guy doing, having nice arms? He never showed them. 

The summer humidity stuck to Akira's skin, and a sliver of sunlight outlined the curve of his bicep. Ryuji's eyes dragged over the seams of muscle. Under his shirt, Akira's shoulders rotated and shifted in perfect coordination. It all looked so easy to him. 

Had he always been this strong? Ryuji's eyes followed his body down and back up again. Akira gave a huff as he lifted his chin above the beam. 

Had he always been this...

The lithe line of his body dropped down. Shoulders flexed, and Ryuji wanted to touch them. More accurately, he wanted to be touched  _ by _ them. Feel the strength of those arms pushing him down, holding him still, pinning him th—

_ Oho, woah there. _ Ryuji shook himself. What was this? That wasn’t how things usually went—not in his head or in real life. Usually they'd mess around and eventually, well, clothes would go, and then mouths would be everywhere—fingers too—and Akira would crawl onto his lap and—

Akira dropped to the floor, and the sudden thud made Ryuji jump in surprise, a small cough squeaking from his throat. 

Akira threw a look over his shoulder, hair bouncing around his face where it wasn't stuck to his forehead. If he was surprised, the emotion never reached his face. He gave a small smile instead, tipping his head to the side. "Hey Ryuji; you're early."

Ryuji shuffled around, thanking all the deities for the bagginess of his shorts. "Huh? Oh yeah, well I had nothin' better to do. I guess I shoulda called, huh..."

"No, it's okay." Akira grabbed the chair he had set below his chosen ceiling beam and moved it back to the side. 

Ryuji watched him awkwardly. "You uh... do that a lot?"

Akira looked at him again. "Pull-ups? Sometimes." 

Ryuji cast a glance at Akira's shelf, occupying his eyes. "Sometimes, haha." He scuffed his socked foot against the floor. "I wish I could move that well working out 'sometimes'."

Akira's shoulders shook in a way that might have housed a laugh. "Maybe it's more than sometimes."

"Mhm. Holdin' out on me. I see how it is."

Akira was smiling when Ryuji turned to him fully. He took a few steps forward, stopping just in front of Ryuji's face, and bopped him on the nose with his finger. "I have to try and keep up with my athlete boyfriend." 

The B Word always made Ryuji blush so hard he flinched. Akira took advantage of the hitch in conversation to brush a kiss against Ryuji's lips. Ryuji immediately stilled, his already too-hot skin flaring hotter. He had to will his eyes to flutter back open when Akira pulled away from the kiss. He was smirking. "I'm glad you're here early."

Ryuji turned away from the grin to cough. "Yeah, good, me too." Akira’s shoulders shook again. He strode away from Ryuji and Ryuji glanced around the attic. “Hey, where’s Morgana?”

Akira plucked his glasses from his nose before sending Ryuji a quick side-glance. “On a date with Ann.” Ryuji gave him a dubious look and Akira held up his hands. “That’s just what he told me!”

“Frickin’ cat…”

“So what do you wanna do today?” Akira asked, moving on. “Movie? Games?” He was unthinkingly rubbing at the nosepiece of his glasses with his t-shirt. Before putting them back on, he pinched at the bridge of his nose with it as well to wipe the sweat away. It gave Ryuji a quick and stunning view of Akira’s abs, cut into a perfect six-pack that twitched as he moved. 

_ Unfair. _

“M-Movie?” Ryuji tried. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on games right now—he found it a generally bad idea to challenge Akira when his libido was through the roof. He wouldn’t pay attention to the movie either, but at least he wouldn’t get his ass beat at Tekken. 

“Okay.” Akira reached for a case and slid a disk into the player. 

“Not even gonna ask me what I wanna watch?” Ryuji joked, crossing his arms over his chest. “What a bad date.”

Akira put his hand on his chest in mock offense. “I’m hurt! Turns out this is the only one we haven’t watched yet.”

“I guess I can allow it.”

Akira’s glasses moved just in the slightest as his cheeks pushed them higher. Akira’s smile changed his whole face even when his lips didn’t move much. It was like light spilled from his eyes, or the warmth of it changed the air or… maybe it just changed something inside Ryuji. Something like that. Something good. 

They flopped on the bed together, resolute in their smooshed-together bodies even in the summer heat. From here the TV was tiny and almost unusable, so Akira set it on a chair and moved it closer. It didn’t matter either way—Ryuji was too busy inhaling the scent of soap and sweat lingering on Akira’s neck. 

The opening scene began and they got comfortable, Ryuji leaning some of his shoulder and weight onto Akira’s chest. It was hard to admit, but Ryuji liked feeling held. Having Akira looking over his shoulder meant he could feel his chest on his back, and that Akira couldn’t see the pained face he was probably making. 

Akira sighed, and his breath gusted over the juncture of Ryuji’s neck. Ryuji couldn’t contain the shiver that visibly fled down his limbs, and he just barely caught the gasp attempting to leave his throat. Akira didn’t say anything, but he must have noticed—it wasn’t a minute later that he was grazing his lips up Ryuji’s neck, just barely ghosting sensation over his flesh. 

Ryuji shuddered again. His cock stiffened to full hardness in his shorts, and he could have cursed. It was obvious to anyone with eyes, but based on the sweep of lashes against his neck, Akira’s eyes were closed. 

He began mouthing at Ryuji’s throat, gently at first. Then he pulled the skin between his teeth and sucked, hands tightening on Ryuji’s hips as he did so. A muffled groan rumbled in Ryuji’s throat, unstoppable. It felt like Akira’s mouth was sucking blood straight into his cock, spiking his arousal and need higher. 

When Akira opened his mouth and bit against Ryuji’s neck, his moan came out loud and undiluted. It was embarrassing, especially in the space of the attic where every noise felt amplified. Akira’s hand slid inward, fingers sliding over clothes until they reached the bulge of Ryuji’s length. More groans sounded as he wrapped his fingers around Ryuji, pumping over him. 

Ryuji could have squirmed off the bed—even through clothes it was almost too much. It wouldn’t be a new feat for Akira to make him come in his pants. But Ryuji felt flustered and needy in all new ways today. He kept thinking about Akira’s arms and his perfectly cut abs, about how it would feel to have all that power focused on him, controlling  _ him _ . He gasped as he imagined it—sweat rolling down the crease of Akira’s bicep as he thrust forward, took Ryuji, forced him down and dominated him—

_ Woah woah _ **_woah there._ **

They hadn’t—with Ryuji as—it was—

Ryuji’s thoughts were reeling out of control. There was a hard resistance at his lower back, right above the crease of his cheeks, and it took him a moment to realize it was Akira’s cock rocking against him. 

_ He would take care of me, right? _

They hadn’t done it…  _ that way _ before. Ryuji had practiced—with a toy he had bought while in heavy disguise at the underground mall, and with his fingers—but they hadn’t done it yet.  _ Akira  _ always got himself wet and ready, and  _ Akira  _ always rode Ryuji like it was the best sensation he’d ever felt, like he could never want anything else. Ryuji had never really gotten it—his fingers could feel good but...

They hurt, too. 

He was probably wasn’t doing it right. He was dumb, and clumsy, and those were two things Akira wasn’t. And for whatever reason all Ryuji could think about, the only damned thing that could occupy his thoughts, was of getting it done  _ right _ , and hard, and  _ fully... _

Akira inside him. Akira  _ inside him _ . 

Ryuji groaned, his rim flinching without stimulation. What the fuck?

“Akira, man, you gotta—” Akira was still pumping over him, and Ryuji was about to lose himself. “S-stop?”

Akira paused immediately, but Ryuji could feel the doubtful look levied at the side of his face. “Is that a direction or a question?” 

“I…” 

Akira nipped at the side of his neck. “Don’t want to make a mess? Or…” He shifted on the bed, his length once again grazing against Ryuji’s back and reminding him that he wasn’t the only one with needs. “Have something else in mind?”

Ryuji heaved an exhale, which must have sounded like agreement to Akira. He chuckled, already undoing his pants. “I’ll get ready.”

A few quick blinks forced Ryuji’s vision back into focus, and he grabbed Akira’s arm. That halted his motions, and when Akira turned his gaze back toward him, Ryuji immediately looked away. But Akira didn’t say anything, he only waited. 

“Today… I thought…”

_ Come on dude, just say it! _

Akira was still unmoving in his grasp, patient. 

Ryuji cleared his throat and went back to locking eyes, determined to overpower his embarrassment. His voice came out low and almost whispery, but he thought that was okay. “I was hoping... you could take me.”

Akira stared at him. There was a too-long, overdrawn moment of them staring at each other in tandem silence, and with every passing second Ryuji felt his heart beat itself closer to the grave. 

“Akira?”

“I’m sorry,” Akira said with a small shake of his head. “I was just trying to commit you saying that to memory so I could use it for all future masturbation sessions.”

“Dude!”

And just like that, the switch was flipped. Akira leaned forward, breath gusting over Ryuji’s lips. Sharp gray eyes stared at him, smoldering like they were trapping searing heat behind steel doors. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” 

Ryuji’s arms trembled as he leaned on them. He was keeping himself a breath away from Akira’s face, and he didn’t know why. His response was just short of a whimper.

Akira’s mouth quirked up. “What brought this on?”

_ Your arms. _ “Nothin’ man, I just—” Ryuji looked away again. “I’ve been practicin’ ya know? I do two fingers alright now, and I just figured…” 

Akira leaned forward and Ryuji leaned back, keeping that arbitrary few centimeters between their faces. Soon he was completely unfurled on the bed, laid out and pliable beneath Akira’s body. He exhaled, and his whole body shook. 

Akira watched the effect of it ripple down Ryuji’s body, shaking him from his lungs to his toes. Ryuji was strung tight with tension. He wanted to lay beneath Akira and be taken wholly, driven to the point of snapping hard and uncontrollably. There was something in him that wanted to be pressed down hard into the bed and kept from breathing. He trusted Akira to make him feel exactly the way he wanted to feel. He wanted to just… surrender. 

“Okay,” Akira whispered, and for one haunting second Ryuji was convinced he heard his thoughts. 

Akira’s fingers fanned out over Ryuji’s chest before touching down against the fabric. When he dragged them downward, tiny prickles of heat followed, jolting into something hotter and more violent when he got to the hem and touched at bare skin. 

Ryuji jumped, gasping. 

Akira chuckled. “You’re extra sensitive today.”

Ryuji made a disgruntled noise. “Don’t you say that most days?”

Another laugh. Akira ran his hands up Ryuji’s abs, pushing the shirt up with them. “Maybe.” He nipped at Ryuji’s stomach and Ryuji groaned, precum spilling over his head and slicking up his boxers. 

So maybe he  _ was  _ extra sensitive today. 

“I look forward to figuring out what brought this on later,” Akira said, mouth moving against his skin as Ryuji pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the side. 

“I already told ya... no reason.”

Akira tugged at the waistband of Ryuji pants and kissed within the confines of his hipbones. “Liar.” 

Ryuji’s back arched. He was afraid of Akira touching him. He had already been so close, even before clothes came off, and now…

Akira took to undressing him, flicking open the button of his shorts with deft fingers and pulling down. The shorts were thrown to the floor with Ryuji’s shirt, and Akira’s eyes stalled on the patch of slick dark seeping through his boxers. 

Ryuji cleared his throat and looked away, but only for a moment. His eyes were immediately drawn back as Akira peeled the fabric away, taking extra care to lick at the clear wet trail his cock had left on his abs. Breath shuddered from Ryuji’s chest as he watched with unfaltering attention. Akira’s eyes were closed as he drew his tongue into his mouth and tasted him fully. When his lips parted again he trembled as if he’d been touched. 

“You’re so weird man,” Ryuji breathed, not minding in the least. 

Akira opened his eyes, lancing that smoke-hot gaze right through Ryuji’s chest. He leaned down and lapped at the trail again, keeping eye contact. Ryuji almost hissed as he quivered. 

Akira guided the boxers down Ryuji’s legs, making sure he shed them completely. Then his hand slid down to Ryuji’s thighs, touching gently at the soft inner flesh. He guided them open. 

Ryuji gasped, overwhelmed just at the act of baring himself. Akira’s gaze flickered upward, peering over the horizon of Ryuji’s body as he brought his face down low. His breath trickled from his lips and between Ryuji’s cheeks, a reminder. 

“Are you sure?” Ryuji almost squeaked out. “I mean… that? I mean you really want—”

Akira leaned forward and dragged his tongue over Ryuji’s entrance. 

Ryuji’s entire body spasmed in shock and surprise. It was… there wasn’t a feeling like it, not really. Akira did it again and this time Ryuji huffed an exhale through gritted teeth, trying not to moan. 

“So you like it,” Akira said, foregoing a question entirely. His voice was husky. 

“Well—”  _ Yeah, _ “—it’s different…” 

Akira repeated the motion, but this time he flicked at Ryuji’s entrance with the tip of his tongue. 

Oh  _ God. _

How could one touch make Ryuji want something inside him so badly? Just one wet touch and he could already feel his body begging to be opened. Was that normal? Was that just the power of Akira?

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Akira told him. He didn’t pause in his actions—he went right back to work, swirling his tongue around Ryuji’s opening before slipping the tip inside. 

_ “What the fuck!?” _ Ryuji wheezed. 

Akira immediately withdrew. “Is that bad? Are you okay?”

“No—I mean yes, but don’t  _ stop, _ I’m goin’ insane here!”

There might have been a chuckle as Akira dipped back down again, pressing his tongue hard against Ryuji’s puckered flesh. He moaned, unable and unwilling to try and control it, and his mind filled with images Akira fucking him with his tongue until he was spent and empty. 

It didn’t take him long to realize that it wasn’t enough—it would never be enough. The intrusion was too wet and pliable and not nearly deep enough. He needed something to stretch, to fill…

“Akira.”

Akira hummed against Ryuji’s rim, and Ryuji felt it all the way up his spine. 

“Akira, I need… um, uh—”

Akira spread him just a little with his thumbs and thrust his tongue in deeper. Ryuji’s voice cracked against the attic walls and ceiling as he moaned. “Yes?” Akira asked politely. 

“More,” Ryuji tried weakly. 

“More?”

“Yes please.”

He felt Akira’s lips snap into a smirk against his skin. He lifted his chin to gaze at Ryuji, slick still smeared around his mouth and chin. “Well since you said  _ ‘please’ _ ...” 

Ryuji sighed, a vain attempt at exasperation. 

“Get me the lube. On the side table.”

It took Ryuji a moment to regain focus, but eventually he shook himself of his lust-haze and smacked around Akira’s side table. The lube was easy to find—the plastic was sticky in a very telling way—and he handed it to Akira. 

“I’ll start with one.”

Ryuji nodded hastily, flopping his head back on the bed.  _ Don’t think about it. If you think about it, you’ll tense up. Don’t— _

Akira ran the tips of his newly lubed fingers around Ryuji’s entrance, taunting him. 

Ryuji gasped, unthinkingly pushing against the touch in an effort to take more. Tensing up wasn’t going to be an issue with Akira like it was when he was alone. 

“Needy,” Akira chirped. “Are you sure we haven’t done it this way before?”

“Shut up,” Ryuji gritted out, hips still writhing against that touch. He wanted it. 

Surprisingly, Akira did just as he was told. He said nothing, so the room was perfectly silent when he slid his finger into Ryuji’s body. 

It was a shock as his rim opened up for Akira, as his insides flooded with sudden sensation. He tried to keep his hips still even as they wanted to jerk, and Akira’s motion came to a slow stop. He waited as Ryuji groaned, taking heavy breaths. Then when he felt Ryuji was ready he moved again, sliding deeper. 

_ Aah _ . It was a strange feeling, but a welcome one. Heat was surging out from Akira’s touch, his rim sizzling with tight-wound tension and wonderful friction. Finally he didn’t feel empty. 

Akira began moving his hand in a rhythm soon after, pumping into him with slow, gentle thrusts. Ryuji found his body unfurling around the touch, craving more and more of it with every motion. That made it easier when Akira poured more lube over the both of them and added a second finger. 

It was a stretch, and Ryuji’s body reflexively tightened. 

_ “Shh,” _ Akira cooed through Ryuji’s gasps. He leaned forward and slid his tongue up the length of Ryuji’s cock, tasting his precum at the tip. 

_ “Dammit,” _ Ryuji breathed.  _ “Christ.” _

Akira took the head in his mouth and sucked as his fingers dove deeper. Ryuji’s moans shook his very bones. Akira felt  _ good _ . He was working open his slick rim, dragging friction against his inner walls. He turned his hand, twisting his fingers within Ryuji. It was slow-moving torture. Then he curled his fingers a bit, feeling around, and a jolt of sensation overwhelmed Ryuji so fully that for a moment he swore he went blind. 

He shouted, unsure if it was in pain or pleasure, only to realize that he’d almost come instantaneously. He shook, arms and legs and lips, and his cock ruthlessly spilled precum over his stomach.

“Good to know,” Akira said. 

Ryuji tried to curse but it just came out as a weak noise—a sound a wounded animal might make. 

Akira toyed with him awhile longer—stroked in and out of him slowly, pressed his fingers into that over-sensitive place that made Ryuji want to be fucked senseless. It still wasn’t enough. Not enough of Akira, not enough spreading him open, holding him down, filling him up. 

“Do you want another finger?”

Ryuji shook his head vigorously before answering. “No. Please no.”

“Please no?”

“Akira,” Ryuji breathed, losing track of proper thought and senses. “Please just fuck me.”

Akira went impossibly still. Ryuji could feel his eyes on him, even with his own closed. So he opened them, and stared back at the smoldering silver gaze pinned to his face. 

“Please,” Ryuji whispered. “Fuck me.”

A visible thrill worked over Akira’s shoulder and down his spine. He closed his eyes and took a breath, letting it go nice and even. When he opened them again he went to withdrawing his fingers, and Ryuji could have cried out at the sudden emptiness of his body. 

Akira leaned forward, crawling over Ryuji so he could reach for the condoms hidden away beside his bed. 

“Akira.”

Akira glanced down at Ryuji as he grabbed one. He blinked his question. 

Ryuji’s hands fluttered around Akira’s hips, landing on them gently. “Let me do what you do for me.”

There was a quiet moment of missed understanding, and when it dawned on him, Akira shook his head. “You don’t have to.”

“Let me,” Ryuji said. He pulled Akira’s hips forward, which came without resistance. Then he took the tip of Akira’s cock into his mouth and ran his tongue over the head. 

It was  _ so wet. _ And salty. And  _ Akira _ . 

The heft of it weighed against Ryuji’s tongue as he took him deeper, and his lips stretched to accommodate the girth. He was supposed to fit all this inside him? Normally he thought he might be terrified—right now it made him keen with want. 

Akira gasped and sagged forward, leaning his weight against the attic wall. His legs trembled where they held him. When Ryuji was certain he’d gotten Akira good and wet, he withdrew.

Akira cleared his throat. “Th—thanks.”

Ryuji almost snorted. “Don’t be awkward dude; that’s not your role.”

Akira turned his head away, but it didn’t conceal the red that had flooded across his face. It was gone a moment later though—he opened the condom at the corner and rolled it on before dumping a liberal amount of lube over himself. 

He dropped down to all fours then, bouncing against the mattress as he brought his lips just above Ryuji’s mouth. “What is my role?”

The tip of Akira’s cock touched against Ryuji’s cheeks and he shuddered. Finally he focused, taking in Akira’s perfect face with heat-hazy eyes. “I think you know,  _ Leader. _ ”

Akira’s lips parted before shifting into the low curve of a smile. He kissed Ryuji, bearing his weight down on top of him before pulling away. Ryuji didn’t want him to. 

His finger slid back between Ryuji’s cheeks and Ryuji mewled, his body squirming at the touch. Soon Akira’s cockhead was pressing in against Ryuji’s entrance, the not-quite-pressure a delicate tease of what would come. 

Ryuji reached down to wrap his hand around his cock, a trick he’d seen Akira employ the first few times he took Ryuji into him. But Akira immediately stifled his efforts, smacking his hand away. 

“Wh—”

“Not your job,” Akira said almost distractedly as he leaned over the bed and felt around the floor. He came back up with a discarded suspender that came with all school uniforms. He shoved vaguely at Ryuji’s hands then, pinning them above his head. “I want to decide,” Akira told him. Then he lashed the suspenders around Ryuji’s wrists, tying them together. He looked back down at Ryuji’s face. “I want to decide when you come.”

Goosebumps fled over Ryuji’s skin. He felt the tremors overtake him in waves, shaking from his core all the way out to his pores. When he reopened his eyes, Akira was staring at him. 

“I thought you might have been feeling that way today.” He pressed the tip of his cock back to Ryuji’s entrance. “Submissive.”

If Akira didn’t fuck him soon, Ryuji was going to come all over himself without prompting, and it was going to be embarrassing as hell. 

He couldn’t tell Akira that he was always feeling submissive for him. Every time he saw him, every time they touched, every time Akira slid down the length of him. Akira was always in control and that was all Ryuji wanted—to be pressed and bent by those expert fingers. 

Akira brought his hand up to Ryuji’s length and pressed his thumb to the tip, sliding around the head in a pool of precum. 

_ “Shit,”  _ Ryuji breathed. 

“Relax for me,” Akira said as he continued to draw circles over the tip of him. He pressed against Ryuji’s entrance again. The rim gave way for the first bit greedily, hungrily. Ryuji felt the stretch all the way in his toes. 

Then came the rest of the head, spreading him wider. Ryuji groaned, and the reflexive need to flee overtook his limbs. But he resisted—it was always like this, with fingers or toys—and it would fade. His hands shook restlessly in their bonds. 

Akira pushed past the head entirely, moving until his shaft was what held Ryuji open, and then paused. Ryuji was biting his lip to keep from shouting. The pressure of Akira inside him was insane—it made his lungs empty of air, made his entire body wind tight. Akira stroked his hand over Ryuji’s length, drawing shivers straight out of him. Ryuji moaned, and even as his legs trembled he could feel his body relaxing around Akira, adjusting to him. 

“I’m going to move.”

Ryuji nodded without looking at him. Then he was filled, slowly, and all the oxygen and all the thoughts stored up in Ryuji’s body emptied, taken over. He gasped, trying for breath like there was a hand on his throat, and extra slick spilled down his shaft. His body screamed around Akira’s girth, around the feel of him pushing aside his inner walls delving deep into him. His wet rim was a chorus of friction and heat, the slide so good that the pain dissipated quickly. 

Akira paused when he was seated almost fully inside.  _ “Good,” _ he purred. 

The noise Ryuji tried to make quivered in his throat and left him breathy and almost inaudible. Tears clung to the edges of his eyes. 

Akira reached forward with the hand that had been on Ryuji’s cock and touched at his cheekbone. Ryuji leaned into the touch. He wanted more of Akira’s body weight pressed against him. Then he began moving, pulling his hips back so that he could thrust in again. Every snap forward made Ryuji’s nerves light up in brilliant colors. The jolt sent him high and careening, then the drag back made him moan. Then it all happened again, over and over. The colors flashed and swarmed behind Ryuji’s eyes. 

Why hadn’t they done this sooner? What stupid fear had made Ryuji think this would be anything short of great? It was Akira, after all. 

_ “Akira.” _

Akira mumbled something. Ryuji suspected it was to keep a moan at bay. He was rocking into Ryuji in perfect rhythm, adjusting his angle slightly after a few thrusts. Then he grazed against that spot, that place that had made Ryuji shout, and it all happened again. 

Ryuji’s hips bucked, and he felt the tension beneath his skin sky-rocket. 

“Found it,” Akira whispered. He wrapped his hand around Ryuji’s cock and began stroking again. Ryuji was embarrassingly wet, and the sound and feel of Akira stroking over him made his whole body shake. 

_ “Akira.” _

“I know.” He thrust a few more times, just barely grazing against that spot once more, and Ryuji came as if it was a reflex, as if he could be perfectly undone by Akira’s cock alone. His back snapped into an arch and he gasped between his moans, stripes of cum decorating his stomach. His rim was flinching around Akira’s shaft, squeezing tight and then unfurling again as he orgasmed. 

Akira groaned, the first undone noise he had allowed from his mouth. He was quickly becoming too much for Ryuji—his insides were frighteningly oversensitive, and he had to resist the urge to scurry away from all touch. 

“Akira,” he gasped again, this time with a different sort of desperation. 

_ “Ryuji,”  _ Akira whispered. Then his body jerked, hips snapping hard against Ryuji, and he came. He almost collapsed on top of him as the waves poured out, shudders wracking his limbs. The weakened gasps against Ryuji’s ear made Ryuji want to hold him. But he didn’t—instead he just relished the sounds and twitches, drinking in the feel of Akira going languid and numb on top of him. 

Akira’s hips eventually went still. He would shiver now and again, a reaction that bled right into Ryuji thanks to their bodies being perfectly connected. After a few aftershocks had gone by, Akira pulled from him. It was… an uncomfortable feeling. It made Ryuji want to wriggle away and crawl under the bed, closing himself off. But once his body relaxed he was fine again, and he felt nothing but spent. 

Akira flopped down beside him and sighed. 

Ryuji spoke first. “That was…” 

Akira nodded. 

There was a silence, and then Akira opened his eyes. It was only then Ryuji realized he’d been staring at him. 

“Was it okay?” Akira asked. 

“Duh. It was better than okay.”

Akira’s eyes closed slowly. “I’m relieved.”

“Hey, Akira?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you untie my hands?”

They both glanced up at Ryuji’s arms, still bound above his head. They broke into unified laughter. “I’m sorry; I’d forgotten.”

“Well that’s fine and all but I gotta go to the bathroom and that’s not something I want to attempt hands-free.”

They snickered together. “Sojiro would not forgive either of us for that.” He reached up and loosed the suspenders, freeing Ryuji’s wrists at last. 

“Thanks.” 

“But hey, can you hold it a little longer?” 

Ryuji looked to Akira with confusion on his face. 

Akira squirmed closer to him.

Ryuji almost guffawed. “What, you wanna  _ snuggle?” _

“Don’t make fun of me. Just lay there, all right?” He threw his arm over Ryuji’s chest. “I liked tying you up, but I missed touching you.” 

Ryuji tried not to let the shock show on his face. He failed. Luckily Akira’s eyes were determinedly closed. Ryuji nuzzled his nose into Akira’s hair. Ryuji always wanted to snuggle this guy. He just felt lucky he didn’t have to say it this time. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Guys you forgot to turn the movie off. Guys
> 
>  
> 
> <http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/>


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